


Carneol

by Tiofrean



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: M/M, blowjob, handjob
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-19
Updated: 2013-09-19
Packaged: 2017-12-27 02:12:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,185
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/973067
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tiofrean/pseuds/Tiofrean
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A quick game for two...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Carneol

**Author's Note:**

> Well, it's a quickie. In both meanings of the word... I wrote it while waiting for a tram and in said tram. 
> 
> Enjoy!

“Sherlock”

John was lost in this deep, rumbling voice that was now whispering obscenities straight into his ear. The detective was sitting on his lap, straddling the doctor's thighs, both hands fisting in the material of John's shirt. The doctor had one of his arms thrown around the lanky body, keeping him close. His other hand was plunged deep inside his friend's trousers, squeezing and pulling at the hardened flesh inside the silky pants. 

The younger man moaned, arching his back when John gave a particularly wicked twist. His hips started to move on their own accord, rutting against the strong palm, seeking out more of the sensation. 

The doctor growled, leaning forward and catching Sherlock's lips with his own, sucking and biting gently at them, making the detective squirm. 

John felt a pair of clever hands making their way to his belt, undoing it quickly, before they started to work on the button and zipper. After a few moments of fumbling Sherlock huffed out an irritated sound, the angle of the doctor's hips making it impossible for the detective to open his trousers. 

“For god's sake!” Came a low growl and John chuckled.  
“Wait, just wait a second” he pushed the enamored detective slightly away and leaned back, his shoulder blades hitting the back of the couch. Sherlock looked with hungry eyes as the doctor unfastened and unzipped, giving him access to what he so desperately wanted. 

When John had finally completed the task, he looked up just to be greeted by one pink tongue, darting from between two lush lips, wetting them. The doctor watched fascinated, as the pink muscle swept over the bottom, and then upper lip, before it disappeared in the mouth again. 

Sherlock raised one elegant eyebrow, observing his doctor's reaction, seeing him tense slightly under the sharp gaze. 

“What are you thinking about?” He asked, voice deep and ragged.   
“I...” John found himself at a loss of words.  
“What do you want , John?” Sherlock purred into his ear, leaning forward. 

“Do you want me to lick you?” He gave a long, sloppy lick over the shell of John's ear. 

The doctor moaned loudly.

“Do you want me to suck you?” The younger man continued, this time sucking the earlobe into his hot, wet mouth. Sherlock could feel two strong hands gripping his waist, trying to keep him in place for John's thrusting hips. 

The detective twisted out of his grasp and lowered himself to his knees, kneeling on the floor and situating himself between the older man's legs. He ran his palms up and down John's thighs, relishing in the way his body trembled with anticipation. He looked up and had to swallow a few times, his throat going dry at the lustful stare John was giving him. 

The room suddenly went too small and too hot. The younger man leaned forward, taking his friend's prick out and giving his doctor a good squeeze. 

John's eyelids fluttered shut and he fell backwards again, one breathy curse escaping his lips. The sight of his mad lover, on his knees, looking up at John with wide-blown eyes... it never failed to drive the good doctor crazy. 

“What do you want, John?” Came a breathy voice, and the smaller man had o open his eyes and look down, his breathing hard, heart racing.   
“Just tell me, John” the detective insisted, his hand working in a steady rhythm. The doctor opened his mouth to answer, but his brain seemed to be temporarily offline. 

A softly whispered “Sherlock” was the only thing that escaped his lips. 

The detective seemed to understand him nonetheless, for he lowered his head to the doctor's lap and sucked John inside with one, smooth slide. 

The sound John made in that moment was a liquid sin. The detective, eager to coax more sounds from his lover, wriggled his tongue insistently over the underside of the hard shaft, maintaining the slight sucking all the way. John's hands shoot up into Sherlock's hair and he gave a sharp cry when the head of his cock hit the back of his throat. The detective hummed, feeling the grip tighten on his scalp. 

“God, Sherlock” John moaned in a low voice, feeling himself getting nearer. The exquisite suction, combined with Sherlock's wandering hand, and the low, murmuring he was making – it sent the good doctor on the edge. 

He started to tug lightly at the younger man's curls, letting him know that he was close. But Sherlock just waved his hand impatiently and resumed his ministrations. 

John came with a low keening noise, trying hard not to thrust into the willing mouth. His hips bucked a little, the pleasure overwhelming him, but he didn't want to hurt the man at his knees. Sherlock only groaned around him, all the time sucking and licking him softly to help him to ride out his climax. 

When John came down from his high, he was greeted with a mouth-watering sight of Sherlock, who was still kneeling between his parted legs. The detective's hand was moving quickly over his cock, producing wet-slick noises and tearing grunts from Sherlock's throat. One of his hands that wasn't involved in getting him off, was braced against John's thigh, and when the doctor moved to kneel on the floor as well, the detective gave a startled cry. He jolted his head up and looked at John with wide eyes, looking exactly as a scared puppy would. 

“Hey, come here” the doctor whispered, sliding to the floor and bracing one knee between Sherlock's. The position allowed the younger man to lean forward, what he did, burying his face in John's neck. The doctor wrapped one arm around him, keeping him close, and shifted the other to Sherlock's groin. He gently pried the detective's hand off of his prick and gently replaced it with his own, quickly setting up a fast rhythm. Sherlock moaned desperately and John could feel the deep rumble all the way in his chest. 

He started to twist his wrist on every second stroke, adding a firm squeeze around the head every time he reached it. The younger man tensed, his arms gripping John for purchase hard enough to leave bruises. 

The doctor didn't mind, not in the least.

The way the detective was moaning a low chant of his name was totally worth it. 

It didn't last long, with one last twist Sherlock stiffened fully and, with a cry, started to spill over John's hand and his own belly. 

It took a while for both of them to regain their breaths, the time required spent on cuddles and lazy kisses. Finally John straightened and looked at his lover curiously. 

“So what brought this on?”

Sherlock shrugged before replaying, a few sweat-matted curls falling into his eyes. 

“I just don't like it when people look at you like that.”  
“Like what?”  
“Like you were a prey...” he shifted closer, leaning against John with his whole frame and gave a laz kiss to the doctor's shoulder. 

“You are mine” he stated and felt the doctor nod.  
“God, yes. Only yours.”


End file.
